Twist of Time
by twilit umbra
Summary: Five years after the final battle and the destruction of the Twilight Mirror, Ganondorf escapes his prison and rises to power. In an effort to stop him, Link goes back in time. The Hero's plan? To sabotage Midna's role as Twilight Princess. —Link/Midna—
1. Prologue

**TWISTS OF TIME**

_- five years after the return of peace to Hyrule -_

* * *

><p>Clad in the Hero's Clothes, Link stood in the Temple of Time alongside Princess Zelda, where a hollow, ghostly air filled the lobby. With its polished, ageless walls, it looked like a place that should have teemed with royalty.<p>

Maybe the spirits of dead monarchs still walked the halls, but to the living it was a lonely, empty temple. Zelda felt a strange stillness that chilled her, and somehow she knew that time was frozen.

The Temple of Time was built by the goddesses so that when disaster struck, the Hero of Time could go back down the Time Paths and undo it.

After looking through old books in the Hall of Archives back in Hyrule, Zelda believed there was something odd about the Temple of Time. Long ago it was said to be right near Hyrule Castle, accessible via a short path from the marketplace. There were no records of how or when it moved from the heart of Hyrule to deep within the Faron Province.

Interestingly, she found that in old times, Faron Woods used to be known as the Lost Woods.

The Temple of Time was now in ruins. Why did the goddesses create the the temple only to seal it off, then move it to the woods, and destroy it?

It was also said that two magic doors existed deep inside the temple: one to the future and one to the past. She wanted to find them. She and Link went from room to room, and she strode along the walls in silent awe, listening to him recall his experiences from five years ago.

"I never saw another door," he mentioned. He took out his map, an old scroll that was loosely packed in the bag strapped to his back.

Zelda stopped by his side to trail a finger from the entrance point to a higher section on the map, where there was nothing drawn. "Here is where we would find the Door to the Past."

Huh. That would explain it, Link thought. He didn't go that way.

As the hour passed, Link led the way to the northern end of the temple. Eventually they found the uncharted door.

Zelda understood his curiosity, but seeing him there worried her. She had a strange feeling, a sensation like those of her visions. A bad one that Link was going to do something rash. Maybe he longed to return to Ordon while it was still the place of his childhood memories, if not to see Midna again.

Link turned back around to face her, but there was resolution in his eyes that confirmed her fear. "I can stop Ganondorf."

Zelda shook her head. They were oppressed by Ganondorf for a short time, and still they faced a future of uncertainty, but what if he undid their past? "No, you can't," she said insistently, stepping forward. "The twists in time aren't separate indents in a malleable strip of metal to be reshaped by a novice blacksmith." She stepped back again and motioned for him to move away from the door, but he didn't.

He opened the door and a bright, white light filled the chamber. She saw his silhouette step into the light before she shielded her eyes, then the door closed.

He was gone.


	2. Howl

**HOWL**

- _Through the Door to The Past_ -

* * *

><p>If he were to return to Ordon in the past, would he meet his younger self? Although Link had the nostalgic desire to visit his hometown, he couldn't risk being seen. He traveled to the Arbiter's Grounds instead and pulled the Mirror of Twilight up from the sand. From his bag, he retrieved a small chest that Midna gave to him before she left. Inside was a sharp, black stone painted with arbitrary red streaks. When he put a hand into the chest and touched it, the Triforce on his hand pulsed, and his body was replaced by that which could house evil.<p>

He left his things in the World of Light and returned to the Twilight Realm as the Divine Beast. It was, at most, two years before Zant's takeover. The Palace of Twilight was different: It was on one large landmass, and there were live plants growing on the outer edges. He stood on the emblem of Light atop the incline, looking ahead at two iridescent blue Sols.

A woman's voice had bounced off black particles in the air and eventually reached his swiveling ears. It was hard to tell where sounds came from in the Twilight Realm because of that ricochet effect against floating debris. As he stepped forward to sniff the ground, he heard her again. He looked up and saw two figures standing on a high balcony. One had orange hair tied low in a ponytail, clothes adorned with stripes of red and pink. Behind her stood a male in dark green robes that bore intricate golden designs down the back.

"There's a beast lurking around the palace entrance," the female said tepidly as she watched the gray wolf below. "Tell the guards... "

Only flying animals-such as the kargaroks and bats-ever made their way to the palace.

In the World of Light, Hylians spoke a different language than did animals, but Twili magic could translate any language. Hence, animals were well aware of Twili politics. Also in the World of Light, there was more land and fewer communicating races to compete for it. The Twilight Realm's history was rich with inter-species struggles for resources. After a battle long ago, when land was to be divided, the Twili formed pacts with animals. Ones with primitive lifestyles, mostly quadrupeds and non-mammalian species, desired uncivilized land. The Twili agreed to cease the spread of their territory into the remaining, unrefined reaches of the Twilight Realm. Nowadays, those places were called "the Rural Lands."

A single female guard saw to the report. She came out of the main entrance. Link was taken in for questioning. He claimed to be lost with no recollection of how he got to the palace. The Twili were suspicious, but they could not keep him on hunches alone.

Months went by, and Link spent that time in the Rural Lands. He kept a low profile. He wanted to find Ganondorf, not to be found. He joined a pack of twilit wolves, but soon realized he didn't like their system of hierarchy. His good intentions led to revolt in the pack. The alphas were furious and one was killed before they drove him away with death threats.

It was a hard, lonely month.

As he followed news regarding Midna and Zant, though, Link did come to an idea that would help him find Ganondorf. He hesitated for a long time. It was not a pleasant thing to consider. He held out as long as he could, but when it was time for Midna to be crowned Ruler of Twilight, he couldn't afford to wait.

He had to stop the ceremony.


	3. Princess Eventide

**PRINCESS EVENTIDE**

- _two years before the events of Twilight Princess_ -

* * *

><p>The previous Twilight King—His Royal Highness Itzal Baqi Wan—had abruptly passed more than a fortnight ago. It came as little surprise, given he had been ancient (even by Twili standards of an average century-and-a-half lifespan); but to his dying breath, he had remained a widow with no children, much less any living relatives, and had never named an heir.<p>

So it was that the King's duties were left to the Twilight Council, a group made up of all the Heads of all the Noble Houses in the Twilight Realm, who were split into two political factions: the Old Families, and the New. They proceeded to do what they did best: argue. In this case, it was over who ought to take the throne.

As was usual, the Heads of the Old Houses banded together behind a single candidate, as did the Heads of the New Houses with another, separating themselves by political affiliation once again. Days of butting heads and flinging rhetoric could only last so long, however, and eventually they had to choose. It came down to the last living member of the tribal, Old Family House of Eventide, and the last living member of the New Family House of Nikomedes. The two had each been vying for the throne since they were young, seeking the late King's title of heir: the Eventide girl because of a pushy mother, the Nikomedes boy because of his own ambition.

The Lady Midnight Eventide was young—barely sixteen, an adult by their culture's standards, but seen as no more than a sprout by elder Twili—but had since proven herself capable. She held sway over others with a sharp tongue and sharper moods; accused by some to be a spoilt little girl at heart, regarded by others as a potential ruler who could get the job done, and then some. Factor in her innate gift for magic and her pedigree, and she could sway even her opponents… provided she kept her mouth shut, for once.

Lord Zant Nikomedes, on the other hand, was older than his adversary by more than a few years, and had been Head of his own orphan House for at least half of his life. He was characterized by his dedication to his world, and had gained respect amongst most Council members with all of his work in improving their realm: it was most notably his ambitious ideas for their peoples' future that garnered him attention, although the extent to which some plans went unnerved more than a few.

In the previous years, the candidates had enjoyed something of a friendly rivalry (despite both their attitudes being hardly cordial towards one another). The Lady Eventide, however, had the sense that she could not trust him entirely… that he was not fully genuine in his actions.

When at last the Council made their decision, it was apparent they felt the same.

* * *

><p>A bolt of lightning streaked down from purple clouds and thunder rolled long and low behind it, announcing one of the first storms of the monsoon season.<p>

The warning of rainfall only encouraged Midna to stop dawdling and move it along. Really, she shouldn't have went off to brood at all in the first place—things had been hectic only a few days ago, and that was _nothing_ in comparison to that day's morning, when everyone seemed to be bordering on hysteria. Celebrations, especially coronations, were not taken lightly in Twilight: the Twili rarely had something to celebrate, and as a result indulged as much as they could when the opportunity rolled around (despite, even then, being rather guarded).

Her soon-to-be advisors would surely be annoyed, if not outright furious, with her sudden decision to take a stroll; yet the image was oddly pleasing. She was not yet in the palace, and already she foresaw herself thoroughly enjoying driving her courtiers and aides absolutely mad.

Nonetheless, Midna was nervous. Years of ruthless training and schooling and (often, violent) arguments with her mother had lead to this day; the purpose of the entirety of her childhood had been shaping her, _creating_ her for this role. Had the Lady Mijirn Eventide still been alive, she might've even been _proud_—and impressing her was a feat few could claim to have accomplished, much less her only daughter. She was prepared in every sense of the word, and yet…

There was the smallest bloom of _doubt_, weighing her confident psyche down like a gnarled weed. _She wasn't ready for this._ She was too young, too naive, too foolhardy—how could she ever be a capable ruler? What if she messed up? It wouldn't take much for the Council to abolish her reign: stuffy, power-hungry nobles or no, their interest was ultimately vested in the safety of their realm and the safekeeping of their people; they would doubtlessly be watching her like a shade-hawk for at _least_ her first year on the throne.

If she even made it that far, anyways.

Then there was Zant. Upon news of the Council's decision a week ago, her opponent had gracefully accepted his defeat and remained as distantly polite to her as he always had… but he had disappeared for days afterwards, a move that alarmed her. Surely he was plotting—surely, he had some plan with which to steal her title. He wasn't the type to lie low… nor was he the type to _lose_.

A laugh burst out at the thought, three sharp, lilting notes—_"Eee hee hee!"_—and Midna shook her head. No, she was overreacting. In a matter of hours, she would officially be the Twilight Princess, and she _was ready_. She would keep her people and their realm safe from harm, and have a peaceful rule leading them all to great accomplishments.

Shrugging off her worries and allowing a triumphant smirk to cross her expression, Midna's gaze fell upon the palace, resting on the near horizon.

_Princess Midna..._ She liked the sound of that.

* * *

><p>Once inside, Midna managed to steal away from the growing crowd in the foyer, heading down one of the halls. The sound of steps falling alongside and keeping an even pace with her, she did not mind, nor did she address: her thoughts were elsewhere, in the duties she would attend to after the ceremony. It was when her follower took hold of her elbow that she saw <em>him<em>; her flinch smoothed easily into disdain upon recognition.

Rain began to make a steady dance against the glass and brick of the palace outside.

"It seems nature is inclined to give weather fitting for your coronation day," Zant offered dryly, a single brow raised, grip tightening.

Making a show of rolling her eyes, she jerked her arm away and sniffed haughtily. "Why, Lord Nikomedes! I'm _so_ glad you were able to return in time for it—I mean, I thought for _sure_ your pity party would last for at least the rest of the week." She didn't dare look at him after that, unsure if she could keep the cheer out of her expression if the insult had landed. The terse silence that settled between them told her enough.

He finally spoke again, voice low. "It's a shame the council has a preference for serving spoilt little girls."

Eyes thinning, a venomous smile returned to her lips. "In that case, funny how they didn't choose _you_, then!" He stiffened, jaw working, and then a frantic servant fairly screeched her name, whisking her away before he could retort. She could not trade barbs with him any longer—it was time to prepare for the ceremony.

* * *

><p>"Let us begin."<p>

In the middle of the ancient room rested a high dais that framed massive pillars and supported a long table, and at the table sat six of the seven royal sages; only the eldest—the Head Sage—was standing. The stone walls, etched with cultural emblems, reflected the light of a single Sol. At his words, the audience of Twilight denizens kneeled, their heads bowed to the floor.

Before the sages on the dais, Midna kneeled. The Head Sage picked up a massive, ornate scroll, unrolled it, and read: "Daughter of Fiyr and Mijirn, head of the House of Eventide: are you prepared to accept the title of Twilight Princess?"

She responded with the theatrical line she was taught: "I give my life to my kingdom, my heart to my people, and my spirit to my realm."

"By accepting these obligations, you have agreed to take upon yourself the burdens of your kingdom, subjects, and realm. You must not let your promise falter, no matter the trial." He gestured for her to rise. "Today, a new era begins. After you are crowned, you will take your place in history."

The second eldest sage rose to speak. "Long ago, our many isles formed one great land, and we lived in harmony."

"As we know, the wild animals desired rural land," the third sage continued, "And though we Twili did not need it at the time, our ruler was obstinate and refused to cease the spread of our territory."

"When the animals rebelled and fought off the Twili forces to claim the rural lands as their own," said the fourth, "The Twilight King of the time grew enraged with all of his power, and struck the ground."

"It was only following this disaster that the land was worn away into many separate pieces," the fifth added.

"The separation of our land was a great loss in connection amongst us all," the sixth sage finished, and they all—save for the eldest—sat back down.

"In remembrance of such folly," he carried on, "Please rise… for the reuniting of the land."

The chamber reached a peak in its orbit where it was directly above the empty entrance to the throne room. As they began to descend, Link thought he must be the only one who didn't understand why. He was startled by the black cloud that seeped in through the floor as the rooms intersected, and he lifted his paws away from it. The fog ascended until it disappeared into the pitch-black ceiling above them; and then the hall was gone, replaced by a stairway that led to the throne room. _So that was what the ceilings were made of, and why they were so high_, he thought.

The currents of the sages' powerful spell, magnified by the presence of the Sol, took time to dissipate. Midna felt the undercurrents of its power still humming in the air, thrumming through her blood like a second pulse. She flinched from her reverie as she realized abruptly that the sages were staring, and she scrambled for her line, embarrassment coloring her grayish, ivory cheeks a faint lilac.

A hushed murmur spread through the crowd, interrupted by a short, muffled burst of laughter that was barely contained by its owner… one that sounded an _awful_ lot like a certain noble she had run into just earlier, Midna thought. She didn't hide a scowl, then shifted her focus onto getting through the rest of the ceremony without any _more_ mortifying stumbles. "I... know now what kind of power I must command, in order to eradicate the mistakes of my predecessors, and to further their accomplishments."

The eldest sage was still amused by her faltering, tone a tad wry when he replied. "Live up to this bond, and you will wield more than the mere magics bestowed upon you." Another handed him the crown, a delicate thing made up of spriglike rods shaped from metal, and an antique that dated back only Twili historians knew how long. The only part of it that ever changed was the single gem it held, enclosed by the twisting boughs; as of now, it held the ruby stone that represented her house of Eventide.

As practiced, Midna turned, her back to the group of sages. Her gaze met the members of her kingdom: most future victims to her ignorance and arrogance, one who would become her worst enemy, and another who would become her best ally—and perhaps an even better friend.

That said, only one person in the room knew all of that, and it certainly wasn't her. It was at that moment in time said person abruptly charged forth from the crowd, weaving between the legs of the Twili. He came up from Midna's side and jumped, snatching the headpiece with a bite that lacerated the sage's fingertips, and elicited yells and gasps all around. He landed and bit down harder on the metal frame, hoping to break it.

Of all the things Midna thought could go wrong, this was not one. At first, she wondered if she was imagining that wolf, appearing like magic from the crowd, headed in a mad dash for her. He came dangerously near to her person, and yet she didn't move, still stunned, even when the shock of the audience proved that this was not a particularly realistic daydream.

Words tangled in her throat—commands like _"stop"_ and _"get him"_ and _"why"_—but none came out. Before Midna knew it, she was moving for the animal—not knowing what she would do if she caught him, but intending to harm or _stop him_ in some way.

The sages got him before the infuriated young woman could. They expelled a magical bind that wrapped around his legs and constricted. Link failed to leave more than a few shallow bite marks in the crown, but he did succeed in pushing the red stone out of place. As he tripped and threw his head back, the House of Eventide's ruby slipped down his tongue. He swallowed it with a gag, and then landed on his side; the remains of the crown fell on the floor beside him with a clank.

Midna could only stare at her saboteur, frozen in place with horror.

_She was going to kill him._


	4. His Holy Beastliness

**HIS HOLY BEASTLINESS**

_- two years before the events of Twilight Princess -_

* * *

><p>After the… <em>incident<em>, the rest of the ceremony was put off; the crown was now bent and dented, and her house's ruby was just… _gone_.

The culprit, a mere wolf to much surprise from the council—to much surprise from _everyone_—asserted that he wouldn't give out any information in regards to where he came from, or if he had accomplices. All they knew was that he had reason to oppose Princess Midna's coronation, but he refused to explain even _that_.

Contact was made with the Rural Lands, but the animal inhabitants that would speak with them didn't know where he came from. The most baffling thing about it all was the wolf's lack of animosity, since animals weren't known to lie about their emotions.

Last Midna had heard, the Council's decision on his sentence came down to lifetime incarceration or execution—they were still figuring out which to choose.

It was long past Sol-set. After fruitless attempts at sleep, Midna was an unkempt mess—perhaps not only in appearance but mentally, as well, for she found herself headed to the prison tower. Her hair wasn't tamed as it usually was in ponytail and clasp, instead worn wild and free, fiery curls cascading over her shoulders and back like lava; and she was casually indecent in only shadowy material and a skirt, the epitome of Twili impropriety without the royal shroud.

Those headdress and robes would have felt even more alien and heavy, now… now, when she didn't know just what was going to happen—much less whether or not she would ever actually officially _be_ Twilight Princess.

When she arrived, the guards looked up from their wards. Those delicate brows of hers knitted together on her forehead, wrinkling with aggravation as she surveyed them. "If three's a crowd, then what do you suppose _this_ is, hmm?"

"…Your Highness…?" one guard nervously ventured, and he was treated to a mirthlessly vicious smile for it. "_Get out._ I want a _private_ audience with the _cur_."

A storm of boots pounded the floor, followed by harried, whispered apologies, and moments later, she was left alone in a room full of caged prisoners.

Link was already acquainted with his cell—an iron cage suspended over hot coals, in a room filled with air better suited for a desert. He hated confinement alone: all he could do was sit and think, stand and think, and lay down and think. The metal bars on one of four sides were laced with wispy black threads of magic, serving as a forcefield; the other three sides, the floor, and the ceiling were stone. On the inside, patterns similar to the ones on the doors of the palace were engraved.

Sol magic, present on Midna's body in the form of archaic tattoos, lit the etchings in Link's cell when she came near enough; and at first she merely picked up where they last left off, silently glaring daggers at him.

When words finally came, her voice carried a lilt of laughter, one that did not fit the bitter rage lacing through her voice. "What do you want?" was what she snapped out—the question that irritated her most. She continued before he could answer, taking consolation from flinging words at him. "What were you hoping to accomplish with that, idiot, trying to eat the crown? I'm insulted by how stupid my enemy is. Really, you might as well be a Light Dweller!"

Link panted and occasionally wetted his lips. He registered her words with a mix of curiosity and distraction, for he could not help feeling excited by the familiarity of an old friend. It was five years, after all. For him… Knowing Midna, he was not surprised that she came to interrogate him.

Instead of answering her question, he took the opportunity to give her some sound advice for the future—in case this mission failed. "If you find a temple in the desert, go around it... not through." He remembered that dungeon, speaking of the Arbiter's Grounds. They spent days getting through, chasing ghosts and navigating puzzles, and there was nothing in there that they needed. When they came out on the other side in the Mirror Chamber, they realized they could have easily gone around the outside.

Of course, what he said only served to bewilder her. They had several temples—some dedicated to the goddesses, some to their own spiritual deities, and others—but they had no _deserts_. She wondered if perhaps she was simply giving too much credit to a demented, loner wolf; maybe he had just been good up until now at keeping his lunacy to himself.

If that was true, then she was wasting her time talking to him… but he spoke again before she could respond with further questioning of his mental state—even as a part of her began to question her own.

"You know about the legend that tells of a hero from the World of Light. The Blue-eyed Beast," he asked, but it was not a question.

It seemed she would rather continue wasting her time, as instead of walking away, Midna stayed, scrutinizing him with a harsh eye.

Yes, of course she knew about the myth. All Twili wanted him to be real, but few stopped believing in him past childhood. Some, maybe more than she knew, would jump at the chance to return to the land of Hyrule. Just past the dark film of Twilight, at the precipitous edge of their realm, the hazy glare of the Light World sky could be seen.

She liked to think that most Twili did not yearn for it. The World of Light encouraged their sinful desires for more power, out in the arid bones of the desert; but here, they had achieved a sort of peace… they had adapted. It was their _home._ "Why? Are you going to tell me a silly little fairy tale I already know?" She settled her hands astride her hips, nails biting crescents along her navel.

"Or do you have ambition far disproportionate to reality—like _most_ men I know—and claim yourself to be the Divine Beast simply because you have the lucky trait of blue eyes?" She tilted her head at him, a savage little grin on her face, which was wide enough to show her tapered fangs. "Well then, wolf boy, go on and change back into your Hylian form. Don't let little ol' _me_ stop you!"

Maybe her aim was to provoke an honest answer from him, maybe she thought he was mentally ill, and maybe blue-eyed animals were more common than he hoped. Without her regal attire, he could picture her several feet shorter, her hair in a rogue ponytail behind a piece of the Fused Shadow, telling him that she would help him escape if only he obeyed her every command. That wide, mirthful grin was fresh in his mind.

It didn't merely betray, but _screamed_ deceit, and that was the most frightening thing about Midna's smile—knowing that deceit should not be so obvious.

But he knew Midna, liked Midna—and after everything, he _liked_ her smile. "I can't change back without the Master Sword," he answered with a tilt of his head and a slight frown. "We don't have a lot of time. Zant should be on the throne, not you. Whether you accept the crown or not, Zant is going to be the King of Twilight!" He needed to keep her attention. Somehow, he needed to damage her reputation. He tried to compensate for lying implicatively by giving her the literal truth, but it didn't alleviate his guilt; he was doing something he did not ever want to do.

Oh, Midna thought, she should have known that Zant had a few tricks up his elaborate sleeve. This trick was clever... while being utterly obtuse, much like the man himself: he got this… possibly _deranged_, but fanatical supporter of his to undermine her coronation.

She could tell the council that the wolf was following through with Zant's orders, but they would not believe her without proof. _"Why would Zant, respectable,_ moral _Zant, do such a thing?"_ they would ask, then dismiss her for holding an unreasonable grudge. It was easier to believe that this unhinged animal, rejected by even the Rural Lands, simply snapped at the ceremony.

That was brilliant, really, to find someone, a loner (even better), whose sanity was easily doubted. She hated him as much as she admired the tactic. The odds of her believing this whole _"I'm the Divine Beast, let me out, I'll show you"_ rubbish were low. Surely even Zant did not believe her to be so gullible.

But then, they shared a fault—he, too, was arrogant.

"I can prove that I'm from the World of Light. Allow me to use the portal and I'll show you," he offered. If he committed another crime, and Midna was responsible for his release, this would all work. When Zant received the throne instead of Midna, Ganondorf would go to her—and then they would know where to find Ganondorf. She would even have his power, and they could use it against him.

For an insane wolf, the "Divine Beast" seemed to have a particularly good grasp on what was happening around him, and he was strangely calm. She was surprised when he spoke of the portal—much like the topic of the Light World was considered taboo, so was that. It was the door to their cage which they could only dream of escaping through.

"Say you really are the Divine Beast... Tell me, then," Midna eventually replied, expression a look of malicious delight as she humored him. "Why should I let you out of here, hm? Why is Zant going to be King, whether I accept the crown or not? And what do you mean by, '_we don't have a lot of time?_' Does his _Holy Beastliness_ have time-traveling powers, too?"

Link was surprised by Midna's mention of time travel. How did she know that he was in a hurry to find Ganondorf before the Temple of Time became inaccessible? Maybe there was more to the legends than she explained to him in the future. It was a reminder to be careful about what he told her, because he was not sure of what she already knew.

She was not so amused by all this any longer. It was one thing to lie, but another to bait her, as though he knew her personally—and that scared her, how he seemed to know exactly what to say, though she was not sure why. Maybe it was a fear that she was easy to figure out.

All but two other cells were empty. One inmate, Ecvira, was jailed for harming someone during attempted theft. "You won't get the answer you want out of him, scum," she interjected. "If your head wasn't so thick and airy, you wouldn't have to ask: 'Gee, why does someone not want me to be the ruler of Twilight? Could it be that they don't like... NO! That can't be it. What do you want, O Inferior Wolf?'"

"I won't tell you anything else until I'm sure that it can be kept a secret," he said, as Midna rolled her eyes magnificently at the female prisoner, "and that won't happen until I prove who I am, which… I think can only be done with the portal to the World of Light." He shook his head, his most prominent human mannerism yet. "You wouldn't leave me here, knowing that you could be endangering your people. I don't want to believe that!"

That was as much confidence as he truly had. Midna fled the Twili in the future, a reason to doubt her judgement in the present. But he had hope. "Do I look so dangerous that escorting me to the portal could be a risk? The only thing at stake is your reputation. I don't want to believe you're that vain!"

If she was in a better mood, Midna might have laughed again, but she was seething beneath the surface, anger a hair's width away from boiling over. She loathed him for being able to both surprise and sway her. Few laid claim to either ability. He had no proof for his claim—other than the kind that would require his being sprung from prison, of course—yet he was so convinced of himself. He stated that Zant was going to be king no matter what, as if it were fact, as if their lives were a book and he already skipped to the end while she had yet to finish the first chapter. He goaded her further—he called her _vain_.

She swore again to herself that she did not know him.

If she was going to be honest with herself, she truly felt intimidated, but she was even more livid. How _dare_ he question her dedication to her people, when the best _he_ could realistically hope for was an extra scrap of food? For a long, terrible moment, Midna stood outside his cage, radiating fury and power with sunset gaze alone… and then she heaved a harsh sigh, turned sharply on her heel, and strode wordlessly out of the dungeon without dignifying him with so much as a reply.


	5. Goodbye to Yesterday

**GOODBYE TO YESTERDAY**

- _two years before the events of Twilight Princess_ -

* * *

><p>The other inmates were background noise in Link's ears as he sat and regretted that he did nothing when Midna left. He turned tail to the bars where the black threads of magic gave off a faint, orange glow. It reminded him the dark energy Midna used to aid him in battle, back (or forward, rather) when they were a team. Maybe his memories were due to vanish upon his deconstruction of their future. He clung to those thoughts in the meantime, closing his eyes and reminiscing over what he was afraid he would soon forget.<p>

Maybe it was unwise to corner Midna, as he did when he pitted her judgement against her vanity. He thought about this, too, as he laid against the blisteringly warm stone floor of the cell, crossed his front paws over one another, and rested his head. Maybe she just needed to sleep on it.

There was plenty on his own mind and he was far from comfortable, but he knew from his long travels the importance of being well-rested.

That night, he slept soundly.

* * *

><p>When he woke up, there was no telling how many hours passed because there were no windows—not that it would have mattered, anyway, because the Twilight sky didn't change like the one in Hyrule did each day.<p>

He wanted to tell Midna his plan—if only she would come back—but even if she did, he couldn't, as much as he wanted to. Link didn't doubt her craftiness; if anyone was going to fool Ganondorf, she would be the one. There was the chance Ganondorf could see through lies, however, so her ignorance had to be authentic.

What crime would he commit when he would leave? Two Sols were kept in front of the palace, he remembered. They didn't appear to be guarded, yet they were the Twili's suns. He could steal one.

Yeah… It was harmless.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Midna arrived via a discreet portal that opened in the darkest corner of the wolf's cell, when the guards were between shifts. She merely glared at him again, silent. He didn't see or hear her, nor did he expect her means of entry. The heat was unbearable and at the front of his mind, leaving him unable to focus on much else from where he leaned against the wall, with his tongue quivering in and out beyond his teeth.<p>

Then he noticed that the designs on the cell's walls were lit up, just like when she was last there, so he looked over his shoulder. He stood and saw her, elated, and he licked his chapping lips, then resumed panting. _She had come back!_

Midna still said nothing, waving a hand at the portal that was left open behind her. It was formed by a combination of the two magics used by the Twili: the black matter that transported people through the debris of their realm, and the Sol magic that allowed one to manipulate its shape, because few were able to control dark magic otherwise.

Portals were used only by those of higher rank, but they were not unusual. Yet he was studying hers as if it were an ancient ruin. Patience was a virtue, but not a trait Midna possessed—and if this wolf knew her as well as he appeared to, he would have known that. Just when she was about to inquire if his cranium was smaller than a Myna bird's, he stepped beside her and under the portal. Making a point to roll her eyes, she coaxed it to accept him.

It seemed Midna had nothing else to say, and there were no words Link demanded from her. He felt the descent of air that moved freely at its will, like fire. It wrapped around him, clouding his senses; he was scattered, weightless, into countless pieces that writhed in an emergent structure. Then he was whisked into the tunnel overhead.

When the debris reassembled, they both appeared on the stone incline in front of the palace. They stood in the center of an ancient, circular pattern that had been burned into the stone ages and ages ago; it held a type of summoning magic that was activated by the true ruler's presence. The moment Midna's bare feet touched the worn runes, the magical gate that led to the world of Light hummed to life: a series of glowing rings projected out from the edge of the path's jagged precipice, each one rimmed with ancient Twili and Hylian symbols alike.

The combination of her sorcery and the inherent magic that buzzed in the Twilight atmosphere was surprisingly favorable to the stranger—none of the usual prodding was needed. She looked his way and found him staring down the Sols. Before she could ask if he was going to get on with his show or not, he turned that too-blue gaze back on her, and spoke lest she indulged in another chance to be uncivil. "They will think you're a nut if you tell anyone about this," he said lightheartedly as he moved towards the portal.

Midna's scowl at him darkened her features further—she was already well aware of that, thank you very much. She knew the risks! _He_ was the one ballsy enough to demand it of her in the first place, really—but he stopped on the Light emblem and spoke again, before she could respond in all her flustered fury.

His canines flashed white, accompanied by a low growl. "You aren't worthy of the crown! I came back from the future to prevent a disaster from happening. You'll flee your people to take refuge in the World of Light, leaving behind the destruction of your former land."

So, not only did he fancy himself the Divine Beast, he thought himself a fortune teller, too? That was the straw that broke the Bullbo's back, easily the worst insult he gave her so far. It showed how wrong she was to have entertained the thought of breaking him out in the first place.

Either he was a complete idiot or she was, and Midna was more inclined to believe the former.

The magic of her people rose in her like shadows in a sunset at the challenge, a spell on her tongue and energy spindling in her mind's eye. It changed the curls of her flame-ginger hair to glowing whorls of power, shaping into a crude hand. _He's baiting you_, a wiser part of her subconscious suggested. She ignored it, nearly dipped into that temporary realm of psychosis that control over such power warmly invited. "_You little—!_"

Without any apparent end to his explanation, without any warning at all, his body disintegrated before her into the black matter that carried him up and through the rings of light.

Unable to throttle and re-imprison someone who was no longer there, the Twilight Princess merely stayed there, frozen, staring where the Divine Beast had been standing moments before.

_He hadn't been lying._ He… he was probably telling the truth all along.

There was nothing she could do but wait and hope he came back, hope they didn't notice a prisoner missing and that she was the most likely culprit, hope that he really had been lying, after all… or that this was some horrible, too-real and convoluted nightmare.

She found herself kneeling, eyes never moving from the rings of light, a strangled, despairing little noise working to leave her throat.

…_What had she done?_


End file.
